Inversion
by sicilliana
Summary: Instead of being heroes, the villainous Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc have the city of Paris in the palm of their hands. Someone has to take a stand, but who? (based on the Inverted AU)
1. Prologue: Miraculous

A crescent moon hung over the city of Paris, shining faint moonbeams onto a young girl sitting atop the glass pyramid of the Louvre. The red ribbons tying her hair in twin ponytails fluttered in the slight breeze and if it weren't for the red spots on her black catsuit, she would blend completely into the night sky. A similarly patterned mask obscured the top half of her face. She sat in silence, her eyes never leaving the guards posted in front of the Louvre. She drummed her fingers impatiently; she had already done her part, where was her partner?

As if on cue, a young man in a white catsuit, mask, and cat ears leapt onto the scene. Twirling his baton lazily, he yelled something that must have been a taunt; all of the guards immediately turned to him and charged at his position. The young man laughed in response and turned to run, leading them away from the Louvre. A thin smile appeared on the girl's face; as ostentatious as that cat was, he still got the job done. She slid down the glass slopes of the pyramid and waltzed right in.

The girl marched through the halls of the museum without fear; she had used her own powers to disable the security system beforehand. She followed the newly-erected signs and arrows until she arrived at the Louvre's newest exhibit: "Miraculous Treasures From Around the World." Upon reading the exhibit title, she rolled her eyes. Vague wording designed to bring in visitors and tourists? She sincerely hoped this heist wasn't a waste of her time.

As she weaved her way in and out of the "treasures" on display, her hopes began to fade. Old, dusty scrolls? Bits and pieces of old weapons? Fragments of murals? This was all standard museum fare. And it wasn't even that interesting - all of it centered on some "miraculous superheroes" throughout time. All imaginary tall tales, to be sure - the girl figured it was just a few people ahead of their time that used their knowledge to protect the people instead of doing the sensible thing and using it to dominate and rule over them. Out of spite, she took out her yo-yo (initially, she thought it was a lame weapon, but it turned out to be quite versatile) and sent it crashing through the nearest display case.

A playful voice behind her chuckled, "Are we really here for that one, my lady?"

She didn't even have to turn around to know that was her partner. Instead, she glanced sideways at the now shattered display case: part of an Egyptian mural depicting a woman in a spotted dress and a man in cat ears and a tail. "Ugh," she groaned. "No." She retracted her yo-yo and kept searching. "Be useful and help me find something that looks valuable."

He approached the mural and studied it closely. "I don't know, they kind of look like you and me," he called. "I may just take this and hang it on my wall."

Rolling her eyes, she turned around and yelled, "We didn't spend the last two weeks planning this damn heist only for you to take back some wall decorations! Now come on, there has to be some 'main event' somewhere, something that links all of these ridiculous bedtime stories of heroes together …"

He sauntered over to her, placed his arm around her shoulders, and pointed to a relatively small display case in the middle of the exhibit. The other display cases were illuminated by small lights in their own cases, but this one had an additional spotlight on it from the ceiling. "Like that one, my lady?"

She scoffed. "This better be good …" The two walked towards the case, not sure what to expect. The girl quietly admitted that she wouldn't be surprised if it were just an aged book of fairy tales, but when they stopped in front of it, both of them were dumbstruck.

The main attraction was an octagonal wooden box that seemed Asian in origin. It lay open to reveal seven compartments. Five were placed around the edges with covers that seemed to depict what belonged there: a purple butterfly brooch, a blue fan modeled after a peacock, a green bracelet, a yellow comb, and an orange pendant. The remaining two compartments shared a raised area in the center; these two were meant for a pair of red and black ladybug patterned earrings and a black ring with a green paw print - the exact same magical items that gave her and her partner their powers.

As she sat there, staring at the box, her partner found the information plaque and began reading it aloud. "These miraculous heroes throughout history have once been theorized to be the same immortal person, but upon discovery of this box, it is now believed that different individuals inherited their powers through these items of magical origin. It was once a popular belief that gathering all of the miraculous items would grant any wish, and in fact, in time periods where all seven holders have worked together as a team, unexplainable miracles have occurred. Unfortunately, all seven miraculous items were absent when this box was excavated. We can only hope that all seven have found a good home." He guffawed and smirked at the ring on his right hand. "It's found a good home with me, all right."

She pressed her palm against the glass and announced, "You know what this means, right?"

As he circled his arm around her once more, he replied, "If we get all of them, I can wish that you loved me and we'd get married and have two - no, four wonderful children -"

She backhanded him lightly, saying, "No you idiot. We've been invincible and untouchable for the past two years. No one was capable of standing up to us, and now we know that there are five people that can. We need to hunt these things down." Curling her hand into a fist, she broke through the glass and snatched up the box. Walking away, she said, "Let's get out of here. We've got some work to do."


	2. Swallowtail

Gabriel Agreste woke up at seven on the dot and, after a quick shower, headed down to the kitchen to assist the cooks with breakfast, as usual. He himself preferred a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages, and two English muffins. His son Adrien, however, was a different story. He rarely ate breakfast at home and when he did, it was always something different. Cereal one week, then the next week, it was bacon and eggs. On a few occasions, he had demanded a few foreign dishes - it was fortunate that his cooks knew so many diverse recipes. Gabriel had learned to put the entire kitchen on standby until Adrien had expressed an interest in eating.

"Adrien? Want anything for breakfast?" he called up the stairs. No response, as usual. But it was fine. It happened most mornings. Ignoring the dejected feeling in his heart, he shuffled to the table to start on his meal. He was halfway through his eggs when Adrien marched through the dining room, backpack slung over his shoulder and looking determined.

"Adrien!" He stood and started walking over to him. "Do you want breakfast, son? I can -"

"Nah," he curtly replied. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Adrien was out of the room and heading towards the front door.

Gabriel sprinted after him, calling, "Alright, son! Now you have a nice day at -" He heard their large front door slam from around the corner. Quietly, he finished, "... at school … love you, son." And Adrien had left without saying much of anything to his father, as usual.

As much as he tried to deny it, Gabriel could no longer ignore the fact that his wife's disappearance had changed Adrien. He sat for a while in their living room, looking wistfully at the pictures on the mantel. All three of them were present, and Adrien was smiling. Now that he thought about it, the last time Adrien had been happy was when his mother was still here. His hand reached out and gingerly picked up his favorite photo: they were all on the Eiffel Tower's observation deck, smiling without a care in the world. Not long afterwards, she had disappeared.

A soft knocking caught his attention. His assistant Natalie cautiously stepped into the room. "Sir? Are you going to finish your breakfast?" she asked. When he shook his head, she scribbled a note to herself. She continued, "The products for the new fashion line are in the second floor ballroom. And, um …" She held out a small box, hastily opened and then re-wrapped. "This came in the mail with the rest of the fashion line shipment. If you don't mind, sir, I opened it to double-check. It doesn't belong to the fashion line, but it isn't dangerous either."

He shrugged and took the box from her. Nestled in between folds of lilac tissue paper was an oval-shaped deep purple brooch. Simple yet elegant. He lifted it from the box, observing it from all angles. "Any return address?" he asked.

"No, sir. It's addressed directly to you, though."

"I see …" Standing up, he waved his hand, dismissing Natalie. The brooch remained in his hand as he scaled the steps to the second floor. At least the upcoming fashion show would give him time with his son; since he was little, Adrien had been the poster child and later, model of his fashion lines alongside his wife. Of course, after his mother disappeared, he stopped showing any outward emotion, so Gabriel had no idea whether or not he still enjoyed it. From what he could gather, Adrien kept modeling because it reminded him of his mother.

He entered the ballroom to find racks and racks of clothes still in their protective plastic wrapping. Normally, he enjoyed this part of a new line - going through all the clothes, making sure they didn't stray too far from his original designs, going in and fixing minor details - but today, his heart wasn't in it. Instead, he slumped down into the nearest chair and studied the brooch again. It really was very plain and simple: just a dark amethyst set in silver. Maybe he could design a line based around this brooch.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the jewel glowed and four pale lavender ribbons burst out of the gem, resembling a butterfly's wings. Something like a pink gremlin with tiny butterfly wings burst out of the brooch, laughing and greeting, "Hello Gabriel! It's nice to finally meet you!"

Gabriel dropped the brooch and screamed (later, he would deny doing so). "Natalie! NATALIE!" he cried. The pink floating thing seemed to panic and placed its … arms? paws? … over his mouth in an attempt to silence him.

"No no no don't scream please!" the thing pleaded. "I'm here to help you!"

Gabriel cried out and pushed it away. "My god, what was in my breakfast this morning?"

From the look on the gremlin's face, this was not how it pictured this meeting to go. "Nothing was in your breakfast, Gabriel! I'm here, I'm real, and I need your help to save Paris!"

At this, he calmed down slightly, but he remained on edge. "Save Paris?" Gabriel repeated. "Can you explain more?"

The butterfly gremlin smiled softly. "Are you familiar with the villains Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc?"

Just hearing their names sent shivers up Gabriel's spine. Of course he had heard of them. Their first appearance had been two years ago, when they intercepted a large shipment to the First National Bank of Paris. They had made off with several thousand euros without leaving a trace, as if by magic. Their heists had become more and more ambitious, and their supposedly perfect methods that left no evidence continued to baffle investigators around the world. The local authorities, as well as Interpol and other foreign investigation groups, were having trouble finding officers that wanted to stay on the case; inevitably, Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc would find them and assault them directly, strong-arming them into abandoning the case.

Quietly, he replied, "I'm familiar … but how are we to stop them? No one has been able to in two years."

The gremlin grinned and folded its arms. "No one until now! They've been abusing their powers for too long! I can give you the power to stand on par with them! With my help, you'll become Swallowtail, the butterfly-themed hero of Paris!"

Gabriel suddenly had many questions. "... powers? Butterflies? Swallowtail?"

The gremlin opened its mouth to try to explain, but simply sighed and shook its head. "It's a lot of information, actually … let's just go to the Louvre. There's a new display that will probably answer your questions. And please take the brooch and keep it safe. We don't want Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc finding it."

"Why would - oh never mind." Obediently, Gabriel picked up the brooch and canceled a few meetings to make room for his trip to the museum. This was becoming one of the oddest days of his life.

* * *

When he woke up that morning, Adrien was focused on one single thing. Running on autopilot, he showered and got ready without a fuss. Normally, their chauffeur would drive him to school, but today, Adrien chose to walk the mile to school in the crisp morning air. He needed the extra time to think before he got to school.

Were there really five other people with powers like him and his lady? Hah, maybe they could convince them to join in their heists. He wasn't entirely sure why Miss Fortune was so dead set on stealing the other five magical jewelry items or whatever they were. "Magical jewelry items?" The more he repeated the phrase in his head, the more ridiculous it sounded, but he knew for a fact that it was true.

Maybe she wanted that wish? But what would she wish for? Loathe as he was to admit it, he didn't know her well enough to guess her heart's deepest desire. For the last two years, their relationship had been strictly professional; even when they were spending time together outside of business, she had barriers up around her heart. He knew what he would wish for: he wanted to get to know her - the real her. He wanted to slip past her barriers and see her heart. But what if this cold exterior was her heart? What if she truly was just using him because he was useful? No, no, he couldn't think like that. He had seen the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. There was love in her eyes … right?

Speaking of, there she was now. Sitting on the steps of the school, scribbling away in a small red notebook, scowling at people who came too close to her - ah, could there be a sight more beautiful?

As he approached her, any other people in the vicinity scattered. Just how they liked it. "Good morning, my lady," he greeted, planting a small kiss on her forehead. As usual, she ignored it and motioned for him to look at her notebook. This particular red book was normally filled with plans for their heists, but the open pages contained sketches of the other magic items, hastily written notes, and far too many question marks.

He smirked. "I see you've made a little more progress than I have."

Dryly, she said, "Shut up, you stupid cat. It's just -" She flipped a few pages to reveal more pages of scratched-out ideas and more question marks. "There is nothing about these damn things on the internet. Just some crackpot theories, nothing on current locations."

"Hm …" Adrien tilted his head. "Have you tried going back to the exhibit?"

She rolled her eyes and slammed the book shut. "Going back to the exhibit? In the time between taking the box last night and this morning?" At the crestfallen look on his face, her own softened and she hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, kitty … it's a good idea, though. We'll go after school, if you want."

Adrien's happiness spread all over his face. "That would be nice, my lady. But, if I could make a request …?" She made eye contact with him and smiled a genuine smile - he could count the number of times he'd seen that gentle smile on one hand. He continued, "Could we go later tonight? … in masks?"

Marinette chuckled as the bell rang. While they walked into the school, she answered, "Of course, kitty." Unfortunately, she bumped into someone, ruining one of her rare good moods. Adrien took one look at who she had bumped into and cringed; it was her favorite chew toy.

In a low, threatening voice, Marinette greeted, "Chloé Bourgeois. Haven't I told you not to stand in my way?"

The blonde girl gasped and shrank back. "B-but I-I-I …" she stuttered. Marinette silenced her with a wave of her hand.

"Stop stuttering, it doesn't suit the mayor's daughter." She said the last two words with such hatred and venom that Adrien recoiled back.

Chloé's lower lip quavered. Quietly, she managed to say, "I just thought … you looked nice smiling, Marinette. Maybe you could do that more …?"

In one fluid movement, Marinette backhanded her, sending her to the floor. Marinette smirked at the bruise that was forming on her cheek. Adjusting her backpack on her shoulder, she hissed, "Don't tell me what to do." She started walking to the classroom and, when she motioned for Adrien to follow, he strode after her, taking his place beside her.

Above them, Alya gripped the railing tightly. This was absolutely absurd. Marinette and her lap dog shouldn't be able to get away with blatant bullying like that, but they did. Every time. Adrien's father was rich; he could be paying everyone to keep quiet about it. But every time Alya had seen glimpses of him, he seemed kind and fair and probably had no idea who his son was friends with. Marinette, then? But her parents were bakers and had no financial influence over anyone! Unless they were bribing the principal with baked goods … but that was ridiculous.

"Hey, Alya?" Someone tapped her shoulder and she glanced sideways to see her friend Nino. He seemed quite anxious, but who wasn't around Marinette and Adrien? Motioning to the classroom, he continued, "We should probably go in. I don't want to run into them …"

Frowning, she snarled, "This isn't right. None of this is." Her eyes found Chloé again; the bruise was now more distinct and the poor girl was fighting back tears. "If no one's going to help her, I will!" She started to head for the nearest staircase, but Nino seized her forearm.

"Alya no!" he protested. "You know what they do to people who try to help Chloé!"

Alya tightened her fist as she glanced down at the scars on her arms and hands. "I know …" she admitted softly. "But that doesn't mean we should -"

"Alya? Nino?" the teacher called from inside the doorway.

"We're coming, miss," replied Nino. With one more insistent tug from him, Alya hesitantly followed him into the room.

"Hey Nino. You know, I have this theory that those two know Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc …"

* * *

Miss Fortune sighed and folded her arms. She knew she was good at what she did, but she underestimated how much damage she had done to the Louvre's security system. The museum's electronic protection was still down and probably broken beyond repair; to compensate, they had posted what seemed like a small platoon of security guards and policemen around the glass pyramid.

Next to her, Adrien chuckled. "Do you ever think we're too good at what we do, my lady?"

She smirked. "Don't be silly. Should I take care of them?"

He groaned and pouted. "Are you saying I can't take care of all of them, my lady?"

"Not effectively." Grinning, she tossed up her yo-yo, summoning a lucky charm. Several small black spheres with red polka dots fell from the sky and landed in her open palms.

Adrien eyed them warily. Quietly, he asked, "My lady? What … what are those?"

Smugly, she said, "Just watch." She tossed them towards the swarm of guards; due to her innate good luck, they landed and rolled and bounced into the perfect places. As soon as the guards began taking note of them, they activated, releasing a gas that would knock them out for the next few hours.

"Wow …" Adrien scratched the back of his head. "That was … what was that, my lady?"

She shrugged as she prepared to leap down. "Don't know, don't care. You coming or not?"

"My lady -" But she was already leaping down and marching to the entrance of the Louvre. Sighing, he transformed into Cat Blanc and leapt down after her. "My lady!"

She sighed. "What is it, kitty?"

Cat Blanc bit his lip. Not once in their two years of working together had he ever said a word against her or tried to argue, and he didn't want to find out what she would do if he ever did. He had to word this carefully. "Um … your lucky charms have gotten more … what's the word I'm looking for? … aggressive?" She frowned - not a good sign. He continued, "I mean, have we ever used knock-out gas before?"

Once more, she shrugged. "We've never needed knock-out gas before -" A small butterfly-shaped ninja star whizzed past her face and clattered to the ground in front of them.

Slowly, both of them turned around to see two figures standing amongst the unconscious bodies. The one that had thrown the butterfly was in a bright blue ninja outfit (both of them grimaced at how hideous it was) and the other was dressed in a dark purple suit and a similarly colored butterfly-shaped mask. And on his chest, where a bow tie would be …

"The butterfly brooch!" Miss Fortune hissed.

He raised his hands, releasing a handful of glowing white butterflies. As they landed on individual guards, they began transforming - one turned into a white knight, and another took on the appearance of a DJ. As the newly powered-up ninja guard barraged them with razor-sharp butterfly stars, the DJ sent out waves of musical notes that knocked them to the ground. What the hell was this? Was this really the power of the other miracle items?

Miss Fortune spun her yo-yo around as a makeshift shield as she studied the other guards; more and more of them were receiving superpowers from the butterflies. Next to her, Cat Blanc jumped to his feet and extended his baton.

"Oh come on, this army's no match for me!" he called boldly.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hissed, "Don't you dare, you stupid cat! Tactical retreat, now!"

In the middle of a battlefield against an ever-growing army, he had the audacity the pout at her. "But my lady …" he whined.

"Tactical retreat, now!" She took him in one arm and sprinted towards the closest building. She flung out her yo-yo and swung around buildings and hopped across rooftops, hoping that they would lose them. She glanced behind her a few times, but no one seemed to be in pursuit. After fleeing for a few minutes, she finally felt safe and both of them untransformed in a side alley close to Marinette's home.

"That brooch is absurdly powerful," she admitted bitterly.

Adrien folded his arms and huffed. "I could have taken them, my lady."

She brought her palm to her face. "Are we still going on about this?" Grinning, he opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him. "No! No excuses! What's the use of trying to impress me if you die in the process?"

He shrugged. "Well, I -"

She frowned and placed a finger on his lips. "No. You keep yourself alive. End of conversation."

Smiling, he reached up and entwined his fingers with hers. "For you, my lady. Always."

Adrien's heart nearly stopped when she squeezed his hand. In fact, he almost didn't hear her question.

"So what are we going to do about butterfly man?"


	3. Reconnaissance

Morning sunlight shone through the tall windows in the halls of the Agreste mansion. Natalie quietly walked through the illuminated hallway, carrying a silver tray with a matching cover. Sure, it was the weekend, and sure, it was a common occurrence that no one saw Adrien on the weekends, but orders from Gabriel were still orders. As she approached his door, she frowned; the dinner she had left outside his door was left untouched. With a heavy sigh, she replaced the old food tray with the new one and knocked on the door softly. "Adrien? If you want breakfast, it's right outside your door," she called. No answer, as usual. Natalie raised her hand to knock on the door once more, but her hand fell to her side. Adrien had never opened up to her or to Gabriel. If only his mother was still here … With a heavy heart, she turned around and started walking back to her office.

Unbeknownst to her, Adrien was awake, his ear pressed to the door. As soon as her footsteps faded, he cracked his door open large enough to reach out and remove the tray cover. He grabbed something at random (turns out it was an apple; good thing he liked apples), replaced the cover, and closed his door once more. He returned to his desk while nibbling on his apple absentmindedly as he pored over Marinette's sketches of the miraculouses. They knew where the butterfly brooch was … He shuddered at the memory of the fight at the Louvre. Were the others just as powerful as the butterfly? Were he and his lady as powerful? He stared at the ring on his right hand. His Cataclysm ability? He couldn't bring himself to use it on anything other than inanimate objects. Heaven only knows what it would do to a person … But his lady had no issues conjuring knock-out gas bombs. How much control did she have over her lucky charm selection, anyway?

Now that the brooch had been found by its rightful holder, it was only a matter of time before the other three found theirs. Adrien hated to admit it, but the butterfly managed to outclass both of them on his own. They didn't need three more superheroes joining him. Marinette had handed him detailed sketches of the remaining three miraculouses and asked him to try to find out if they had been in any fashion shows or antique stores in the last two years. Always eager to please his lady, he had brought up every fashion show hosted in Paris for the last two years and found absolutely nothing.

He had started with the yellow bee comb (or the honeycomb, as he affectionately named it), since oriental-style hair combs were uncommon in recent shows. After watching video after video of poor quality videos (he made a mental note to buy the cameraman for his next show the most expensive HD camera he could find), he was forced to conclude that the honeycomb hadn't cropped up in recent years. Cringing, he repeated the process for the blue peacock fan and the orange fox pendant. Still nothing. His heart sank as he thought of Marinette, her face downcast as he told her he hadn't found anything … Of course, her getting angry was more likely, but the sad look on his partner's face that he had envisioned was too much to bear.

Adrien sprung up from his chair, grabbing the nearest clean-smelling shirt and pants he could find. He was going to get some information about at least one of those damn things, even if he had to visit every single antique shop in Paris.

* * *

"... no, no, it's fine. You have a good day, sir," Adrien sighed. Trying to mask his disappointment, he exited the antique shop and continued down the street. He had been to what seemed like all of the shops in Paris, and none of them had seen anything remotely similar to what he was looking for. The sun hung low in the sky, threatening to set. But he hadn't found anything …

"Ah. So the cat finally leaves his box?" Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned around to see Marinette, smirking.

He stuttered, his face flushing and thumbs twiddling. "I, uh … I was trying to do what you asked me, my lady. But I ..." He vaguely motioned to the storefront, somehow completely forgetting how to speak.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. Her eyes traveled up and down his body - was she actually checking him out? He felt his cheeks turn red. Did she really see him that way?

Her brow crinkling, she asked, "Have you been eating at all this weekend?"

Oh. Well. Adrien supposed that concern for his well-being was the next best thing. Nervously, he scratched the back of his head. "Well, my lady, I've been working on the thing you -"

"Never mind the thing, you look hungry," she sighed. As if her words released him from a spell, the hunger that he had pushed away for the past few days rose up and crashed over him. The edges of his vision blurred and his stomach growled loudly as he reached out to hold her forearms for balance.

She sighed and grasped his hand, guiding them through the last crowds of the day. "Come on kitty cat. The bakery's not too far away," she called. Adrien wordlessly obliged.

Marinette shouldered the bakery door open, followed by a dazed Adrien. Her parents didn't even acknowledge her presence. The line was short today - it didn't take long for her to order a few pastries and exit the building. As usual, her parents barely noticed her - they treated her like a customer, and when her father called her name for the order, there was a hint of recognition in his face, like he remembered he actually had a daughter. Then it disappeared and he handed Marinette her order without a second glance.

The two headed to the park next to the bakery and sat on a bench, eating their pastries quietly. Naturally, Adrien was the first to break the silence.

"You know, my offer still stands," he reminded her. "There are so many empty rooms in the mansion, and they probably won't even notice you're gone. You could live like a queen."

There he goes again, going completely out of his way to be nice to her. She didn't understand. She already had a place to live; she didn't need another one. It was a useless idea and, while it would make planning heists easier, it didn't have any clear benefits for Adrien. In fact, it would probably make things harder if she were ever found.

"I'm fine where I am," she replied. "The more they ignore me, the more time I have as Miss Fortune."

Adrien frowned (what reason did he have for being sad?), but continued talking. "So what have you been up to, my lady?"

Ah yes. Something she was comfortable with. "Reconnaissance."

"Recon?" he repeated, leaning in towards her. "Like checking the exhibit again?"

She shrugged. "More like recon on our little butterfly friend."

Now he just looked confused. "Recon on butterfly man? But how?"

As she reached into her purse for her red notebook, she explained, "I hit a few places as Miss Fortune, tripped some alarms, checked the limits on his powers -"

"What?!"

Marinette glanced up, slightly miffed that he interrupted her. As she opened her mouth to explain in further detail, Adrien cried, "You faced him on your own? Without me?"

She nodded her head slowly, trying to figure out his thoughts. Maybe … did he want to fight butterfly man too? Was that really it? Sure, she wanted vengeance and to take him down too, but as Cat Blanc, he was showy, flamboyant, and over-confident - the opposite of what they needed against butterfly man. Of course, that pesky cat could always be a distraction -

Suddenly, Adrien closed the gap between them and pulled her into a hug. Her cold, calculating brain seemed to shut down; she managed a few incoherent sounds before asking, "Hey, are you okay? Did I say something?"

Between ragged gasps, he sobbed, "Why did you do that on your own? He's dangerous, Mari!"

She scoffed. "It's because he's dangerous that I did that. I need to see how powerful he is, if he has any weaknesses -"

"You could have been hurt, Mari!" He squeezed her tighter and from the sounds of his sobs, he could no longer fight off his tears. She must have said something wrong again. She didn't understand why he was upset, but she wanted him to stop.

Choosing her words carefully, she said, "I'm sorry Adrien. For … for upsetting you."

Adrien lifted his head from her shoulder, wiping away his tears. "Mari … please don't put yourself in danger like that. I … I care about you a lot. I don't want you getting hurt."

What she wanted to say was something along the lines of "oh please, this is me we're talking about," but she figured that was too arrogant even for her, and it may upset him more. Instead, she replied, "I won't do it again. I have enough information on him anyway …" Adrien's relief turned into curiosity as he scooted closer to her to look at the notebook.

Marinette opened the notebook to a page labeled "Swallow Tail." When Adrien smirked, she chortled, "Yeah, that's his superhero name or whatever. Pretty harmless. Personally, I would've gone with something regal and threatening like Monarch, but he seems like a lame old grandpa that saw a swallowtail and decided it was pretty. So on the first night ..."

* * *

When Swallow Tail arrived at the jewelry store, Miss Fortune was waiting, sprawled lazily on the counter. She rolled over and grinned, taunting, "Hello there, butterfly. Miss me?"

He grimaced and replied, "Your little cat gone for the night?"

Snappier than she meant to, she hissed, "He's being useful right now." She wasted no time and flung out her yo-yo, jumping on the offensive. If her initial idea was right, his abilities were centered around giving other people powers through his butterflies. But if he was able to use the butterflies on himself, she would be in a heap of trouble.

As she predicted, a glowing butterfly flew out from his sleeve as if he were performing a magic trick. It landed on him, but there was no change; it was her lucky day. Swallow Tail seemed to notice he wasn't getting any additional powers and swung his cane around blindly, trying to make an opening for him to escape. Luckily for him, Miss Fortune was done for the night; she kicked him in the chest, knocking him to the ground, and disappeared into the Paris skyline.

The next evening, Miss Fortune had more of a concrete goal: were the powers linked to the personality of the person? She tailed a civilian she knew: some weirdo that was oddly insistent on feeding the pigeons of Paris. With a personality as … unique … as his, he would be the perfect test subject for tonight. As soon as he started heading back to his home after feeding his precious pigeons dinner, Miss Fortune leapt from a roof and landed in the middle of the flock of birds, scattering them in a flurry of feathers. He turned around and made some sort of … garbled pigeon noise? This one was definitely a character. To her chagrin, he kept making those throaty coos, attracting attention.

Her original plan was just to wreak havoc in his general vicinity, but she was getting fairly annoyed. She lassoed pigeon man, pulling him close so she could shove some feathers into his mouth. As he made more odd pigeon noises, she hissed, "Please. No more. It's weird."

"Let him go!" a familiar voice shouted. "What did he ever do to you?"

She glanced at the pigeon man once more before turning to Swallow Tail and replying, "He just kind of … exists."

Swallow Tail snarled. What was he all mad about? Did he know pigeon man personally? He released a butterfly, calling, "Mr. Ramier! Save your pigeons and help me chase off this insect!"

"Huh," she breathed. "Your name is Ramier?" As she turned to face pigeon man, she witnessed the butterfly fly into his chest, enveloping him in a white-blue glow. When the glow dissipated and his superhero persona emerged, Miss Fortune groaned loudly. He was dressed in a catsuit colored to make him look like one of his pigeons. His powers were probably pigeon-related as well. Her theory was confirmed; time to bail.

"Screw this, I'm outta here," she grumbled. Pulling back her yo-yo, she fled to the rooftops.

* * *

Sounding a little more excited than he intended, Adrien asked, "Were you going to do anything tonight? Can … can I help?"

"Hm." She scratched her head as she studied her notes. "I was going to test how many people he could transform at the same time …"

Adrien's heart flew out of his chest. Seizing Marinette's hands, he pleaded, "My lady no, that's too dangerous, please -"

She laughed - how dare she, how could she have the gall to laugh?! - but the smile faded as she made eye contact with him. Any rebuttals she may have had seemed to die on her lips.

"I … I won't do it again," she repeated. Why did she sound like she was unsure of herself? "But we need to find out! What if it turns out he can turn all of Paris at the same time?"

He squeezed her hands. "Then you'll have me protecting you!"

With the shadow of a smile on her face, she asked, "And do you promise not to do anything stupid or dangerous, kitty?"

Without hesitation, he answered, "I promise, my lady. I'll keep myself safe for you."

Marinette nodded and smiled. "You're too useful to me, kitty cat." Adrien couldn't help but beam; coming from her, it was basically a declaration of love - or at least, he liked to think so. The small moment was ruined by a small bubble noise. Scowling once more, she took out her phone and rolled her eyes once she had seen the notification.

"Just another picture that Chloé posted …" she grumbled. In spite of her complaints, she unlocked her phone and opened the app anyway.

Adrien tilted his head. "Mari? Why do you even follow Chloé anyway?"

She shrugged. "So I know how best to insult her. Do you think it was a coincidence that I told her that coat was ugly the morning after she bought it and posted a picture - woah, excuse me?!" Her jaw dropped as she held out the phone for Adrien to see. Right there on the screen was Chloé, still managing to look quite shy as she snapped a picture of herself in her bathroom. Her blonde hair was tied back and held with a -

"The honeycomb?!" he hissed. "How did she - what - where did she get that?!"

With a sly grin, Marinette put away her phone and whispered, "It doesn't matter where she got it. We know where it is now. Time to grab it for ourselves."


	4. Honey Comb

Normally, Chloé tried her best to avoid the large mirror in the corner of her room. There was a time where she actually cared about her appearance, but ever since Marinette started targeting her in junior high, she had thrown on whatever was closest in the morning, making sure she would blend in with the others. The one time she did get something nice (her father had given her a wonderful new coat from Gabriel Agreste's new line) and wanted to show it off, Marinette had criticized every curve and thread out of place and commented that the color clashed with her complexion. That coat hung in the back of her closet, wrapped up in a gray garment bag; she hadn't worn it since.

She knew school started within the hour and that she really should get going, but she found it hard to pull away from the mirror. This little decorative hair comb she found yesterday afternoon really was quite beautiful. Even though it was small and almost the same shade as her hair, it allowed for much cuter hairstyles than just a plain ponytail. Not to mention the small bee design was adorable. Hesitantly, she reached up and pulled it out, allowing her hair to fall down around her face. There was no way she could wear this to school, not with Marinette there. Maybe she would wear it when Sabrina came over this weekend. Sighing, she tied her hair back in a ponytail, threw on a blue hoodie, and left her room.

Chloé slipped into the classroom and headed to her seat without a word. As usual, the crowds parted for her; no one wanted to associate with the shadow queen's chew toy. She glanced at the desks across the aisle and hugged herself tighter. That had been their dynamic since junior high: Adrien, the puppet prince, was the pretty face and the kinder one, although how much of that kindness was genuine and how much of it was an act was anyone's guess. The one pulling his strings and the real ruler of the school was Marinette, the shadow queen. No one dared go against them. And very early on, she made it very clear that anyone who tried to protect Chloé from her would face dire consequences. Maybe if Sabrina were still here … unfortunately, her father's job forced her to move around constantly. She had only been in Paris for a few years, but the two had become best friends. Sabrina was the only one who made an effort to deter Marinette. Well, Sabrina and …

The classroom door burst open and there she was, talking to Nino. Alya caught her eye and waved, offering a small smile. Chloé meant to smile back, but then Alya's jacket sleeve slipped down, revealing old scars on her arms; the shy smile turned into a guilty frown. After Sabrina moved away, Alya had tried to take her place as her protector, but Marinette was having none of it. Neither Alya nor Marinette ever talked about what happened, and Chloé doubted either of them would tell anyone if they asked. Maybe, just maybe, Alya could be a friend, but she didn't want to put her in harm's way again.

As usual, two minutes before class started, the shadow queen and her puppet prince entered the room; all conversations stopped and everyone headed back to their seats nervously. The room stayed that way until the last bell rang and the teacher opened the door.

Sighing, she dropped her notebooks and binders on the desk and announced, "No one's going to like this, but I'm going to assign a group project to accompany this next unit on Shakespeare. Now, each group is going to …"

Group project? Chloé tensed up. Hopefully she would end up with some nice people. Hopefully Marinette would understand that it was a group project and let her have some positive social interaction.

"The first group will be Marinette, Adrien, and Chloé."

She could feel the color draining from her face. Whispers erupted all around her, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. It was her worst nightmare. In her shock, she registered movement from across the aisle; Alya had raised her hand. What?! No, she couldn't take the fall for her again -

Alya blurted, "Ma'am, could I -"

"No Alya," the teacher said, rubbing her temples. "My group selections are final. The next group will be …"

As the teacher read off the rest of the groups and started her lecture, Chloé sank into her seat. So this was how she died. In a group project with Marinette. Maybe if she offered to do the entire project, she would go easy on her.

The last bell of the school day rang and small conversations filled the once silent room. Everyone was rising and shuffling out of their seats, but Chloé stood still, staring at her notebook. She didn't want to have to face Marinette. She didn't want to do anything. More than anything in the world, she wanted to be with Sabrina, but she wasn't here. A soft tapping on her desk brought her back to reality and she glanced up to see a smiling Adrien.

"Hey," he started. "So we're in the same group for the project."

She could only nod silently. The puppet prince being nice? What was Marinette playing at?

"Listen, I, uh …" He scratched the back of his head. "I know you and Mari don't really get along." She laughed to herself. That was a symbol of how close the two were; if anyone else had called her Mari, they would be dead. "So if you don't mind, could the two of us do the planning and start on the project tonight?"

Nervously, she repeated, "Just … just the planning?"

Adrien nodded. "If we come up with the outline for the project tonight, I promise you won't have to work on the project with Mari."

"Um … alright …" The dark clouds over her head lightened; maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe this was Adrien acting independently of Marinette.

"Alright!" he chuckled. "We can't do it at my place because my dad's busy with the upcoming fashion show … is your place okay?"

A small smile appeared on Chloé's face. "Yes … Le Grand Paris. You know where that is, right?"

Both of them laughed. Adrien replied, "Not to be rude, but I know where the biggest, fanciest hotel in Paris is. See you at seven!" And with that, he walked off to join a neutral-faced Marinette.

Chloé finished packing her things and walked back with a skip in her step. Maybe this project wouldn't be so bad after all.

Marinette and Adrien exited the school silently. When she was sure Chloé wasn't anywhere in their vicinity, she whispered, "Nice job buttering her up."

He simply shrugged. Acting and lying came naturally to him; he had lots of practice trying to avoid his father and his caretakers. "It really was nothing, my lady. You were right. Just showing any sort of kindness wraps her around my finger." He took a second to repeat that last sentence in his head and was horrified. Chloé had been such a bully to Marinette in primary school that it was easy to justify the counter-bullying at first, but now that he had said aloud how screwed up she was, he was having second thoughts. Adrien prayed that Marinette couldn't read his shadowed, hesitant facial expression.

Luckily, she didn't. She continued, "You know the rest of the plan, right? I'll be watching from across the street as Miss Fortune. Give the signal and I'll come running."

"Alright," he sighed. "Although I don't think I'll need any super villain assistance … hey, how did you convince her to put us three in the same group?"

A smile spread across her face, but it wasn't the one Adrien loved. This one was sadistic, heartless, and it sent shivers up his spine. The frequency of this particular smile had grown over the past few months and somewhere in the back of his mind, alarm bells were ringing. She began her explanation and he suddenly interjected, "Okay, wait. Never mind."

She pouted and looked at him like she was genuinely hurt. Trying to ignore her puppy-dog eyes, he muttered, "Whatever you did, it was damn effective. I …" What word would she appreciate the most? "... I admire you, Mari."

The shadow of a smile and a hint of a blush appeared as she said, "Thank you, kitty."

Adrien mutely followed an obviously nervous Chloé through the lobby of the hotel. It seemed like she must have come back from an important dinner; she was in a modest cocktail dress and heels, with her hair in a messy but still somehow elegant bun. (Marinette, who was observing from across the street and communicated with Adrien through an earpiece, commented on her choice of dress; he did not respond.) They stepped into the elevator and Chloé started fidgeting with her hair.

"Sorry," she said meekly. "I'd forgotten that my dad was holding that dinner tonight with the Prime Minister."

The Prime Minister was here? Adrien fought the urge to grin; they were going to steal something from the mayor's daughter right under the mayor's and Prime Minister's big fat noses. Alright, calm down Agreste, he told himself. It was even more pressure to get in and get out undetected and he couldn't risk screwing it up, but it would be so great if they -

"... Adrien?" Chloé had her finger on the button for the penthouse, scarlet spreading across her cheeks, and she was staring at him like … like … It was then that he realized that he had been smiling. And she had seemed to interpret it as him stunned by her hidden beauty or something ridiculous like that.

Well, this was embarrassing. But if he improvised right, this could work in his favor.

"Oh, nothing. It's just …" He made a show of looking her over once more. "You always show up to school in hoodies and sweatpants and the like. This … this is nice." Some odd, strangled sound came from the earpiece; was his lady okay?

"Oh …" Chloé's entire face was red now. "U-um … thank you …" The elevator doors slid open with a ding and she stumbled out, nearly tripping in her heels. With cat-like reflexes, Adrien rushed forward to catch her.

"Careful there," he chuckled. Another unidentifiable sound from the earpiece. Was Marinette being attacked? A sideways glance out the window told him no, everything out there was relatively peaceful.

"It would be a shame if you tripped on your way to your desk. Here …" Adrien extended his elbow and Chloé held on with shaking hands. He tried to shoot a charming smile at her, but instead, what felt like some mangled grimace appeared on his face. Settling for a shy lover's smile, he mentally scolded himself. This flirting to get his way thing was second nature to him. It was a crucial point in a few of their earlier heists. He shouldn't feel anything. So why did he feel a crippling sense of guilt?

After what felt like a small, awkward eternity, they arrived at her desk. Adrien guided her to her chair, making sure to slide his hands down her arm and briefly grasp her hand. She gasped and turned redder; he was off of his usual seduction game, but at least he was good enough to make this work. Chloé seemed to remember why he was there and scrambled for a notebook and a spare pencil on her desk. "S-so … the project … I … I'm not sure how to approach it …"

Adrien pulled out a small folder from his backpack and handed it to her. "Can you double check this? I hope it's alright …"

Her eyes widened as she read through the pages. She stammered, "W-wow, this is … this is amazing. We'll totally get an A. Thanks, Adri -" Her grin melted away to reveal suspicion and foreboding. Fear in her eyes, she glanced up and hesitantly asked, "If you'd already planned it, why are you here?"

Damn, she still didn't trust him completely. Although the guilt was building up, he managed to push it away. Taking a deep breath, he bluffed, "I really did want your input on it. And … I think I've been spending too much time with Marinette. I wanted to see you …" Carefully, he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek; her skin flushed where he had touched it. "I wanted to see you in something other than hoodies and sweatpants." For good measure, he ran his eyes up and down her figure. More noises and static from the earpiece; he'd have to wrap this up quickly.

"Oh … I … uh …" Blushing and grinning like a young schoolgirl, she rubbed the back of her head. Wait, was that -?! He extended his hand, touching the small yellow comb in her hair. She seemed to notice and drew away, looking afraid again.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he apologized. "It's just … I've never seen you with that comb before. It's beautiful …"

She smiled, scooting closer to him. "Thank you. My father actually found it for me. At least, that's what I think happened … it came in the mail and no one ever sends me anything …"

"It's lovely …" he agreed. Adrien could feel her body heat against his. He glanced down and noticed for the first time that she was very close to him. Now to seal the deal - one kiss and use the knock-out spray he had hidden up his sleeve. Just one kiss. Her face was so very close. One swift movement and -

"You know, I think my father might like that for a design," he blurted out. "If you don't mind, may I borrow it? You - you can come too, if you'd like to model it. It looks good on you."

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "M-me?! Gabriel Agreste would like my - me?! Oh wow …" She laughed and squealed, leaping up to hug him. "Thank you! I -"

A loud thud came from the balcony, as if someone had landed on it - wait. Oh no. He hadn't even given the signal, what was she doing?! He turned around and tried to pull Chloé behind him, but Miss Fortune was too fast - in a few seconds, she had barged into the room and thrown her yo-yo directly at Chloé's head. She fell to the floor, blood trickling down from a small wound on her head.

For a while, the two stood there in silence, studying each other. What could she have been thinking?! This was the kind of stunt that he would pull; it was always clumsy, impulsive, emotional Cat Blanc rushing in to interrupt things, not clever, calculating Miss Fortune. He looked at her closely; she was doing a good job of maintaining her aloof facade, but she was gripping her yo-yo too tightly, and her arm was shaking. What could have rattled her?

She finally broke the silence. "You don't normally take this long." Her voice was even and controlled, but there was an edge to it - she was close to losing control. He had only seen her like this once before and he wasn't too eager to deal with this part of her again. She continued, "You had that one girl in Geneva out of her clothes at this point."

He shot back, "Well, you don't normally interrupt me. I didn't give the signal and you could've given away our entire plan!"

"What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?!"

She crossed the room in a few strides and he braced himself for a hit. Instead, she stood in front of him, breathing heavily and glaring him down. She snarled, "Why were you being so nice to her?"

What? Seriously? "Mari, being nice is part of the whole flirting to get our way thing. Did you just forget how that worked? And what about you? I kept hearing things over the earpiece."

Her lower lip quivered. "That's not …" A small beep caught both of their attention and Miss Fortune pulled out a map interface on her yo-yo; she had placed sensors in the hallways beforehand and one of them activated.

"Someone's coming," she whispered. She lifted her yo-yo silently. "You ready?"

He sighed and mentally prepared himself. "Please be gentle …" he pleaded.

"It won't hurt. Much." She struck him in the head: hard enough to leave a bruise, but not so hard he was knocked out. He rubbed the new wound; he always hated when this was their escape plan.

"Be convincing and don't forget the comb," she whispered as she left the room and leapt off the balcony. Wincing, Adrien lay on the floor, trying to invent a story that would make sense. Miss Fortune came in and knocked both of them out. Yes, that would work. He extended his arm and pocketed the honey comb. He didn't quite know what the police would make of Miss Fortune stealing a hair comb of little importance.


	5. Ally

In the distance behind her, sirens blazed, illuminating the night sky. She would normally untransform and continue her journey on foot, but the rooftops and the brisk night wind called to something in Miss Fortune. She continued, sprinting and leaping from roof to roof, the wind biting at her cheeks and her heart pounding with adrenaline. The stars flew by above her head as she covered the last kilometer to her house. Her black and red jumpsuit melted away, revealing her civilian clothes, as she landed on the rooftop garden. All the lights were off in the bakery and their apartment; her parents had closed shop and eaten dinner without even noticing she was gone. She suddenly felt sick, reaching out to grip the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She was not invisible. She was Miss Fortune, criminal mastermind.

Transforming once more, she jumped, extending her yo-yo to swing around buildings. She darted around chimneys, vaulted off railings, and leapt across gaps she wouldn't normally attempt, trying desperately to run from something inside of her. She was not invisible. She would never be invisible again. Everyone would know her name.

After a mistimed jump, her knees crashed into the cold metal of the Eiffel Tower observation deck. Wincing, she slowly shifted into a sitting position and began to gently prod her knees. Sure, they hurt, but they reminded her that she was here and that Miss Fortune was not a dream. She was the terror of Paris and she ruled these streets. Not even that spoiled brat could touch her. That goddamn bully …

"Are you kidding? I'm the mayor's daughter! And you - what are you? You're the baker's daughter! You will never be anything but the baker's daughter!"

The memory of the exchange made her blood boil. She would prove her wrong. She had already proven her wrong. She was more than the baker's daughter.

Despite her aching knees, she continued running through the Paris skyline, trying to forget her past.

* * *

Sighing, Swallow Tail shuffled into the main hall. His suit and cane melted away in a flurry of purple sparks as he slumped down in the nearest chair. Nooroo, his small butterfly kwami, floated in front of him and said, "It's alright, Gabriel … we can't always be in time. At least this time, it was just a comb."

Gabriel shuddered and buried his face in his hands. "It's not just the comb, Nooroo … my son was involved. I … I can't lose him … not after …"

He felt a small weight on his shoulder. "I understand, but you shouldn't stay down. Of all things to steal, why would Miss Fortune want a comb?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Who cares? Maybe she just wanted some new accessory?"

A knock at the large oak doors reverberated through the entrance hall, silencing them both. They glanced at each other warily; eventually, Gabriel stood up and opened his coat, allowing Nooroo to hide in one of the inside pockets. Bracing himself, he strode across the hall and opened the door.

A small, wizened Asian man stood on his doorstep. The man wore a tropical red and white shirt and plain shorts and put most of his weight on the weathered cane he carried. Gabriel would have brushed him off as a harmless tourist if he wasn't on his doorstep in the middle of the night. He glanced at the gate; no sign of forced entry. And there was no way he could have scaled the wall … who let this frail old man in?

In a weak voice, the man pleaded, "I need your help."

Gabriel had many questions and concerns. Sighing, he replied, "Do you realize what time it is, sir?"

The man stepped forward, his body and cane shaking. "Please, I need your help."

Gabriel shook his head. "If it's directions or a ride you need, I can wake my chauffeur. I'm afraid I can't do anything else at this hour." He turned on his heel to wake the Gorilla (his file had never given him a name and young Adrien had nicknamed the chauffeur "the Gorilla"; he never seemed to mind), but a hand gently caught his elbow. He turned to see the man, now standing firmly with the cane on the ground next to him.

"Oh, I believe you can do something, Swallow Tail."

Gabriel was speechless. He felt a small weight shifting on his chest and was horrified to see Nooroo popping his head out of his jacket.

He gasped, "Nooroo, don't!"

Instead, the butterfly kwami flew out of his jacket and called, "Master!"

To his surprise, the man bowed and greeted, "Hello, my tiny friend. I see you've found a good home."

Nooroo fluttered around, ecstatic. "Yes, thank you Master Fu!"

"I'm afraid there isn't more time for greetings." He turned to Gabriel, who was still in a state of shock. "How much has Nooroo told you about Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc?"

Unfortunately, the cooks were all asleep, so Gabriel had to fend for himself in the kitchen. He quickly realized that he had no idea where all the basic ingredients were kept, so he snatched up two simple meals from the refrigerator and warmed them up. He returned to the dining hall and placed one of the plates in front of Master Fu. Sheepishly, he said, "I'm sorry I don't have anything else …"

Fu bowed in his direction and replied, "Your hospitality is already more than I was expecting. It was a good call, giving you the miraculous."

Sitting down, he asked, "You … gave me the brooch?"

Fu nodded. "I mailed it to you, don't you remember?"

"Ah. Well …" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "When we met, Nooroo explained my powers and that Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc were two other miraculous users who started abusing their powers. I was told my mission was to stop their raids, and it's been going fairly well, but …"

"But what, young one?"

Young one? Gabriel cringed. This man couldn't be that old, could he? "I've been thinking, Master Fu. If they are also miraculous users, wouldn't it be easier to take their miraculous items back? Then we'd have the advantage …"

Fu's face darkened. After a small silence, he stated, "Their miraculous items have no effect on their cleverness or ambition. Even if they have no access to their powers, they will steal them back."

"Cleverness?" repeated Gabriel. "A week ago, I would have agreed, but now … why would they target the mayor's daughter and steal her comb?"

"What?!" Master Fu rose, alarmed. "They've already taken it?!"

"'It?' What is 'it?' Why is …" His hand traveled to the brooch at his chest as the realization dawned on him. "Is the comb a miraculous item too?"

Sighing, Fu buried his face in his hands. "Originally, I came here to inform you that you had teammates coming - three more miraculous users to help you subdue Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc. But now …"

"That poor girl …" Gabriel clenched his fist; that girl and his son were put in danger. If the other users were still blissfully unaware of their fate … He glanced in the direction of Adrien's room and silently swore to protect not only him, but also the two remaining users.

Gabriel asked, "Do you know who the other users are?"

Fu chuckled. "Know who they are? I hand-picked them myself. Wrote their addresses on the packaging and everything."

"Well, maybe we can protect them! But … there are two … I'd have to use my power …" He wouldn't let anyone else see it, but giving others powers drained his energy. The first time he had used his powers, he'd overexerted himself transforming so many people and almost collapsed on the way home. He soon figured out his limit was one person for about 12 hours. He silently cursed in frustration; he couldn't keep a 24/7 guard on both of them. And there was no one else …

"Two? Well, that's convenient." He held up his arm, revealing a small jade bracelet. "We have two heroic users right here."

Gabriel smiled, suddenly hopeful that all this would end soon. "Alright, so what's the plan?"

* * *

Adrien had the nightmare again. Thankfully, it wasn't as vivid as last time, but the core elements were still there. He and Miss Fortune were running through the Paris rooftops. She was always a few steps ahead, and no matter how fast he ran, he could never catch up. She would stop, and so would he, as if she was freezing him in his tracks. She would turn around, her face so bloody and mangled that it looked like a strawberry. Even though she no longer had eyes, she seemed to look at something past his shoulder. Of course, this being a nightmare, he was rooted to the spot, unable to look behind him or escape. Whatever was behind him, she was intent on getting it; she shuffles towards him, her yo-yo morphing into a diseased and bleeding rat. At the last second, she would toss it at his face and he would wake up.

He leapt to his feet and paced his room, trying to calm himself down. It was just a silly dream, he tried to tell himself. It doesn't mean anything. Nope. Not at all. The fact that he'd been having the same nightmare on almost a weekly basis certainly didn't mean anything at all.

Sighing, he shouldered his way out of his room and started to head for the kitchen. Ever since he was a child, warm milk was his go-to cure for nightmares. He set his foot on the first stair when he heard voices echoing through the hallways. Was that his father? Oh well, it was probably for business. … business well after midnight?

As quietly as he could, Adrien crept down the stairs and hid behind a corner where he could discern the voices better.

"... so what's the plan?" his father said. Plan? If this wasn't related to business, what sort of plan would his father be involved in?

An old voice replied, "Well, the two other miraculous holders should have recieved their items a few days ago." He had to clamp his hand over his mouth to avoid crying out. The other miraculouses?! Adrien was bursting with questions.

The other person continued, "Their kwamis should have awakened by now … I am not sure why the mayor's daughter could not use hers. But until they awaken to their roles, we must protect them from Miss Fortune and Cat Blanc."

"Who are they?" his father asked. "Are they also schoolchildren?"

"They go to the same school as your son. I believe their names are Alya and Nino."

Those two, heroes? Those two, stand a chance against them? Fat chance. With the grace and silence of a cat, Adrien sprinted back to his room. Whatever foul mood his lady had been in tonight, this should fix it up. Closing the door behind him, he spotted Miss Fortune, sitting in his windowsill. He called out, "My lady, you'll never believe what I …" Then he realized that Miss Fortune was in his room at one in the morning. "... my lady, why are you here?" Her lower lip quivered, but she remained silent.

He crossed the room and extended his arms, helping her down and closing the window. She pulled away from his touch and sat on the edge of his bed, her arms folded. "Well?" she snapped. "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

He frowned. "Do you expect me to believe you just read my mind, transformed, and zipped on over here? Mari, why did you come here?"

"I … I …" Her usual poker face distorted into a grimace of pain. "What did you want to say?"

Adrien sighed; the way this conversation was going, they'd be arguing until morning. Pulling up a chair, he sat and faced her, proposing, "Mari, I will tell you after you tell me why you're here."

Wringing her hands together and glancing away, she mumbled, "I don't know."

"Alright, we'll try a different approach." His hand reached out and hovered nervously over hers; at the last second, he pulled it back. "How are you feeling? Clearly, you're not okay. Are you upset? Sad? Use all the words that fit."

More anxious shifting from her. Hesitantly, she replied, "Upset. Mad. Sad." There was a long silence before she added, "Alone?"

Adrien nodded quietly. After two years of working with her, he'd guessed that she had a less than average understanding of emotions. Could she really not understand her own? She was upset and she came to him for comforting. How simple was that? Then again, that could be him assuming far too much …

This time, he found the courage to place his hand on hers. She didn't budge, but she glanced up at him, making eye contact. Without thinking, he offered, "Would you like to stay here until you feel better?"

Red sparks engulfed her as she de-transformed. Now that the mask was gone, she looked tired and defeated, as if she'd gone through some hellish mental gauntlet. Her hand twisted so that their palms met and she gently curled her fingers around his.

"Yes …" she answered. "Please let me stay."


End file.
